Shatter, Chapter 1

A Chapter by Ryan Hill

Lora deals with her mother's disease.

Another seizure racked her mother’s body. Eyes bulging, limbs shaking, mouth foaming; her mother looked like a rabid creature. Lora kept her distance, as if in the room with a total stranger; she could never be too cautious. S2-20 didn’t attack the young, but Lora still felt the paranoia of being so close to one of the infected.

Pushing her nerves aside, Lora crept forward, never taking her eyes off her mother. The seizure was starting to smooth out, and as it came to an end, a second, more violent seizure began. Lora had tied her mom’s hands to the side of the bed, and her ankles to the end posts, but still, her mother convulsed and vibrated, as if something was trapped inside the body, desperately trying to escape.

As her mother shook, the springs of the bed screamed, and her mother would occasionally scream" a sickening, high-pitched cacophony. Lora hand’s itched to clasp over her ears, blocking out the sound forever, leaving her in peace.

The whites of her mother’s eyes were blood-shot red. She looked like something possessed, a creature in a horror movie. This wasn’t how things were meant to happen" this wasn’t how her mother should’ve looked in her ending moments.

Needing to look away, Lora took in the room. The walls were dull, the carpet tattered, and the bed tiny. Beside it, there was a short nightstand with three drawers" each empty, Laura assumed. This was the entirety of Lora’s current world.

Finally, the fit ended, and an eery silence filled the room.

An unitelligible noise burst from her mother’s mouth. It was somewhere between a grumble and a cry for help, but it served it’s purpose" getting Lora’s attention. She crouched down next to her mother’s face, and waited for her to speak.

I’m going to get infected, she thought with panic. I’m going to be infected, and there will be nobody to help me. I’ll die alone, in pain.

Lora glanced back at the doorway, but did not retreat, instead waiting, knowing that this would be her final moments with the mother she cared so much for.

“S"eecon"d draw-w-wer,” her mother wheezed.

Lora turned to the nightstand and opened the second drawer with a shaking hand, only to find a silver revolver.

Somebody tell me this is a nightmare. Please tell me this is just a twisted, twisted dream.

Yet as Lora picked up the cool metal gun, she knew it was real. She knew how to work it" her mom had taught her when the infection had begun to spread.

“When things like this happen, people go insane. That’s just the nature of disasters… I don’t want you getting hurt, Lora.”

Her mother’s words rang from the back of her mind. The palms of Lora’s hands were sweating now, and a pit was growing in her stomach, making her feel sick.

“K-kill m-me,” her mother gasped. Lora looked up slowly from the gun, and met her mom’s desperate green eyes, begging for her to kill the one person she’d loved for her entire life. Lora let out a short gasp, and felt the tears running down her cheeks, like little beads of fire, slowly leaking from her.

“Mom,” Lora whispered. It was all she could and wanted to say.

“S-s…strong,” her mother managed to say, and her voice was clear as she said it, as if the word itself had given her strength. Finally, something clicked with Lora.

Those were the last words that were meant to be.

With shaking hands, Lora lifted the gun and aimed point blank at her mother’s head. This was the way it had to be done. Strong. Always strong.

Do it, Lora commanded herself. It was like jumping into an icy cold pool. It was like sky-diving" the moment when you’re on the plane, looking out over the countryside. You just have to do it, and once you jump, there’s no going back.

Lora pulled the trigger. There was a flash of light, and the gun kicked back as the shot rung through the house. Yet all Lora saw was darkness. She hadn’t remembered closing her eyes, but she must’ve done it at some point in the process, because she could see nothing. And now she didn’t want them to open. She didn’t want to see the splattered blood, or the gun in her hand, or the wreckage of her mother’s skull. For now, the darkness seemed like a close friend.

Lora sunk to her knees, never opening her eyes. Maybe if she opened them, it would be like shattering a damn. Maybe tears would pour out in waterfalls, and Lora would choke on them and drown. Maybe…

Lora drifted into a shocked silent sleep.